Boomerang
by Padfootz-luvr
Summary: Like predictable boomerangs, just returning like the other just threw us around a bit for fun...Merlin, I hate her, but...I should go find her, maybe she isn't too mad at me...on off SBOC, MWPP era to HBP. M because it's the rating of LIIIFE.
1. Prologue: One Map You'll Need

* * *

**Boomerang **

**by**

**Padfootzluvr**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Calli..."You Will. You. Will. You? Will. You? Will." belongs to Bright Eyes, and all Harry Potter characters and places you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.

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_"You said, 'Go explore those other women  
The geography of their bodies.  
But there's just one map you'll need;  
You're a boomerang, you'll see,  
You will return to me.'"_

-Bright Eyes

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**Prologue:  
**

**  
One Map You'll Need**

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I've only been in love once. One time, out of my thirty five years of existence, I have felt what I am deciding to call "true love". Maybe that's average...I actually don't know. I don't make a habit of running around asking people how many times they've been in love; my legal record isn't exactly sparkling as of now, I don't really need to add "disturbing the peace" to my list of wrong-doings.

I find it odd that most songs are about love. How can you tell someone about love? How can you write a song, and make someone experience what you have felt?

You can tell a story, and evoke strong emotions, but you cannot evoke pure, unadulterated love from a human being with words, a melody, and sound. There is one way to express love through sound: silence. It was always those silent moments that love was the most palpable, the most raw, awkward, tremendous, beyond comprehension.

Sit in a room in the dark without any noise at all for an hour: that is being in love. Absolutely terrifying, but you wait through it, expecting something to happen, something to justify your sitting alone in a room in dark so that if once of your mates happens to open the door and ask what the hell you are doing, you can say "finding love...this is what it is". That _is_ what love is like.

But I never got whatever I was waiting in the dark for. I felt the fear, the overwhelming fear and loyalty and admiration and beauty and complete and utter chaotic adoration, but always felt like I was still waiting. Maybe that's why my relationship imploded...

Calli reached that climax, that orgasm of the relationship...she wasn't left waiting, wanting more and more and more for what she put into it. Lucky bitch. That monster with the acid green eyes created a crack between us, between Calli and me. That crack grew into a rift, a canyon, and a gorge until there was just no way to salvage what we started with. What we started with...what was that, exactly? Our relationship never could have worked out how we would have liked, with us starting out how we did. Sure, we were around twelve years old when we met, and decidedly not every little event, every tug or pull, every bickering conversation between two twelve-year-olds foreshadows the future...but it couldn't have helped, right?

We were better off as friends. She was reluctant to get in too deep in the first place, but I persuaded her. I always persuade people into seeing it my way. I didn't expect to be in over my head so quickly...who on earth finds "the one" at twelve years old? It's ridiculous. It is like some stupid pansy-ass hope that that girl with the pigtails and the braces and the acne in the back row of the classroom has, while doodling "Mrs. Whats-her-face-so-and-so" all over her notebook.

We weren't like that. Sometimes I wish we had been. Not with the pigtails and braces and utter ridiculousness. I wish we had, just once, been naive enough, romantic enough, trusting enough, to jump all the way in; noth of us, at the same time. That is what I wish...among other things. But look where wishing has gotten me, right? In my parents house, with my mother's screaming portrait, a raving house elf, and a lycanthropic conscience.

Calli can_not_ be the only one out there for me...I'm overreacting. There goes Sirius Black, drama queen extraordinairre, right?...Right.

...Right...

Godammit. I am so fucked. Who the hell am I kidding...I still love Calli. I always will...It's weak, low, pathetic, despisable, repetitive...And this is how it has been since we started dating in sixth year: one of us leaves, then they come back...the other one leaves, then they come back...over and over...like bloody predictable boomerangs, just returning like some the other threw us around a bit for fun...

I should go find her, maybe she isn't _too_ mad at me...

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** Post A/N:** This was a sort of a prologue: the first real chapter will be up later this week. Review if you feel like it, luvs.

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	2. Chapter One: Crop Circles in the Carpet

* * *

**Boomerang**  
**  
by**  
**  
Padfootzluvr**

* * *

**  
Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Calli..."You Will. You. Will. You? Will. You? Will." belongs to Bright Eyes, "Hide and Seek" is owned by Imogen Heap, and all Harry Potter characters and places you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.

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_  
"Where are we?  
What the hell is going on?  
Dusk has only just began to fall  
Crop circles in the carpet  
Sinking feeling..._

_Spin me 'round again  
And rub my eyes  
This can't be happening..."  
_-Imogen Heap

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**Chapter One:**  
**  
Crop Circles in the Carpet**

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**Summer 1995**_**12 Grimmauld Place**_

I sort of lied. Before, I mean. I said that Calli and I met when we were twelve. According to my better half, I _"technically_" met Calli when I was six. That doesn't count, now does it? Not if I don't recall it, it doesn't. I didn't _meet_ meet her until I was twelve...know what I mean? Most likely not, since I am completely and utterly pissed off my arse right now.

I went to find Calli...to apologize. Don't you judge me, don't you dare. I searched all over Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and couldn't find her anywhere. I _did_ find her room, empty as usual. Calli sleeps in my room almost every night, unless we quarreled earlier that day or some other stupid reason to not sleep in my room presented itself...those stupid reasons usually ended up being someone watching us too closely.

So, as per usual, her room was quite devoid of, well, _her_. Unfortunately (or fortunately, according to _certain_ people), her room was also devoid of all her belongings. It was now just another vacant, but inhabitable, room. I sat on the bed, looking around the empty room, disbelievingly, as the reality hit me (delayed, no doubt by acohol consumption).

She left. She actually left. Sure, we had fought...but we always fought...normally, she didn't _leave_ Grimmauld Place when we fought...she knew I couldn't come after her.

But maybe that's why she left...she knew I couldn't chase her this time...

I had reduced myself to rambling, speaking in nonsensical circles.

I left the room quickly and headed downstairs into the kitchen, where Moony sat immersed in a scroll of parchment, his frown accentuating the premature aging that was a result of either his condition, or stress...or both, perhaps.

He didn't glance up as I entered, nor as I opened a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey, but he spoke right as I was about to leave the kitchen to drink until I couldn't feel anything.

"Calli left, then?"

I didn't answer, I didn't turn around; but I did stop walking. I twisted off the top of the firewhiskey bottle and held it to my lips, but I didn't take a drink quite yet.

"She won't come back unless you give her a reason to," Remus continued. "A _real_ reason. Not just a good fuck."

I scowled and took a drink, turning to him as the amber liquid burned my throat. I spoke, my voice already raspy, a temporary side-effect of the scalding drink, "What reason could I possibly give her to persuade her to stay with me?"

There was a pause as Remus finally looked up from the parchment, and I saw that it was a contract of some sort. I didn't waste any thought on what it might be for, however, as he answered me.

"I'm sure that she is asking herself the same question."

Oh, how extremely encouraging, Moony...

"Well," I began, trying to think up some retort but coming up with none. I took another swig (there really is no other word for it but "swiggin", drinking straight out of a bottle of firewhiskey that is) before continuing, buying me some time to think of something, _anything_, that could validate my "relationship". I sighed, more or less letting myself just drop into a nearby chair. "Well...that's disheartening."

Remus granted me with a ghost of a smile, and I saw a shadow of the old Remus momentarily before he turned his attention back onto the parchment. "That it is...for _you_."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I asked. The manner in which I said this wasn't so hostile as it seems, merely demanding. It still held that nonchalant air that came along with the drink in my hand.

"Well," he began, mimicking my earlier reply. "Well, it could _possibly_ mean that maybe this—this separation, or whatever you may call it—is really better--"

"Bullo--"

"--for Calli," he finished, before my interruption could be completely. I snapped my mouth shut, staring hard at him.

"So," I began, tipping the bottle back again; the loose label fluttered against my fingers as I literally tilted the firewhiskey, bottom's up. I returned the now half empty bottle to the chipped tabletop. "This is the bit where I go all selfless and 'I-love-her-so-much-I-just-want-her-to-be-happy-even-if-I-am-not'?"

"Yes," Remus answered simply. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then decided against it and instead went on, "Er, well it would be...If, that is, you were that type of person."

I knew what he was hinting at, I'm not that addled by Azkaban. He was right, too—I'm not the type to go all self-sacrifice on something that wasn't life-and-death. I wanted Calli to be happy, sure. I told him this.

"She isn't happy with you, Sirius," he said, looking me straight in the eye.

I raised an eyebrow, about to retort with some smart-aleck remark like "she sure was happy last night", maybe accompanied by a lewdly suggestive half grin (people don't think I plan those out, but things like that take a moment's pre-cognition), but Remus beat me to it.

"She isn't happy _here_. Not necessarily with you, of course...I doubt she'd hang around if she didn't receive _some_ pleasure from being with you—no, I don't mean _that_ kind of pleasure, don't be so perverted—but this house...I'm not sure how much longer she—any of us—can take it." With that Remus reached a scarred hand for the bottle that sat in front of me, but I quickly snatched it up and took a drink, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Get your own," I said, taking yet another sip. I was just starting to feel the effects but not enough so that they numbed the...whatever it's called...you know...when you feel like your heart was ripped out then someone took some parchment and started putting little cuts in it and sprinkling them with lemon juice and salt? Yeah...that feeling...I am not so sure that "pain" would be an adequate adjective.

"Come on, Padfoot, it's half full. Share," Remus said, grabbing for the bottle again.

"Nuh-uh, there's not enough for you," I said, clutching the bottle protectively. Remus eyed it sceptically. I glared at him, before jerking my thumb to the cabinet where the liquor was stocked. "Go get your own. They're in there."

"I don't want to open up a whole new bottle when there is an already open one _right there!_" he exclaimed in that odd, whisper-shouting quiet way that only Remus could.

"Open a new one, I'll finish this one, and then whatever you don't finish of the other bottle I'll drink," I explained, downing half of what was left of my bottle.

Remus didn't attempt to argue with a buzzed Black's logic, so with a sigh he stood and, as I had urged him, brought out a bottle of his own. He also reached into a nearby cupboard for two glasses, but I stopped him with a well-articulated shout of "Nahh!"

"I don't need a glass, Moony," I said, proving my point by finishing off my bottle.

He sent me one of those dark half-grins again, before putting one of the glasses back and pouring the other so that it was over half empty.

I raised an incredulous eyebrow at his small amount of alcohol; Remus was a lightweight, but this wasn't exactly cocktail hour at the Cheshire Cat—he was allowed to drink a little more than a sip.

"Are you sure you can drink all that, Remy?" I asked with faux concern, taking the newly opened bottle from his side of the table.

"I have no desire to become _so_ absolutely slathering drunk that tomorrow someone could open a pub by selling my sweat," he said with a sly grin, taking a small sip of his drink. "Unlike you."

I sort of stared at him, trying to work my mind around what he said but it was no use. _Of course _I wanted to become completely and utterly pissed out of my mind. It was quite honestly the only way to forget Calli. And even then I wouldn't forget her...I would just conveniently forget the last few hours with her. "Right well..."

"Yeah, go on upstairs," Remus said, his eyes once more transfixed on his contract.

"Yeah, I think I will do that," I said, rising from the table with the bottle in hand. I left the kitchen before returning momentarily to grab a bottle of Bollard's Boggart Brandy, just for some variation.

I left, and made my way upstairs to my bedroom, where I have been for the last few hours, drinking and occasionally perusing through old pictures. I have successfully drunk myself into an almost-stupor, and I have been staring at the same picture of a ball held by the Crouches for the past fifteen minutes or so.

In the foreground of the picture Mr. And Mrs. Potter, James' parents, are pausing mid-dance to watch their son and his companion, in the background, pull at a napkin, atop which a platter of tarts is sitting.

James' companion has blue-black hair, which fell out of the pansy ass ribbon his mother tied it back in hours ago, and he is crouched almost under the tablecloth, whereas James is fully under the table, only his head and forearms showing as he pulls.

On the opposite side of the table, the host's daughter is pushing the platter closer to James, as James' friend supports the tip of the platter on his side to keep it from clattering to the floor.

The three children are around six, and James' rectangular glasses are continually having to be pushed up his nose to keep from falling.

James' mother, Dorea Potter, is torn between looking worried about the platter falling and laughing at her son and his friends' antics. Her husband, Charlus, is outright laughing and he occasionally runs a hand through his thinning hair.

It's hard not to smile, looking at the picture: that's the night I _technically_ met Calli. She whipped it out of one of her moving boxes when they had bought flat together, years ago, offering it up as evidence to support her version of the tumultuous timeline of our relationship. It would have been a funny picture, if it were of anyone else. But looking at the picture just reminds me of those people I knew who aren't here anymore.

**--**

**December, 1966  
_Crouch Manor_**

Sirius turned to James Potter with an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms across his small chest.

"Well, what should we do, then?" he asked frustratedly. So far, their every attempt to wreak havoc on the early Christmas ball was failing miserably, as it seemed that Caspar Crouch and his wife had fool-proofed the entire extravagant affair.

James looked about the room thoughtfully, as though looking for something else to do, when in fact he was thinking how awfully different he and his new friend were. They were similar in many aspects, but their general characters were in fact almost polar opposites. Not that James minded...so many of his friends were just like him, having been raised the same, that it was good to finally have one that was different.

As James' hazel eyes gazed about the massive room, one of the main three in which the enire ball was being held, he noticed a girl around their age in cream-colored dress robes. Her long, dark brown hair looked like it had been plaited, but it was falling out of the cream ribbon, and her eyes were red from crying.

"C'mon," James said, walking ahead without waiting for his friend. Sirius got up from the cherrywood chair that was almost comically oversized for his small frame, and followed the messy black head of hair through the crowded floor.

They finally reached the young girl, whose cheeks were blotched from crying. She was sitting on the cold tile, leaning against the marble wall with dramatically crossed arms and an exaggerated pout, glaring at the back of a tall, thin man with the same dark brown shade of hair as hers.

"Hello," James greeted her cheerfully, interrupting her brooding. "I'm James, this is Sirius. Why're you crying?" He spoke in that frank, tactless way that only those under ten can really get away with.

"My dad said I couldn't go into the dancing hall," she replied with a sniff.

"Who's your dad?" James asked.

"Right there," she replied, pointing to the tall, brunette man. He had turned a bit so they could see his profile: a rather delicate, thin nose, dark eyes, and arched brows. "Caspar Crouch."

The man turned their way fully, apparently having heard his name, and his thin jaw clenched slightly as he appeared to try not to laugh as his daughter glared at him darkly.

"Your parents are throwing this ball?" Sirius asked, speaking up for the first time since coming over to meet this girl.

"Yes. I'm Callista Crouch," the girl said, holding out her small hand to shake. Sirius took it gently, as though afraid of any diseases girls might carry, but when James shook her hand, he grinned broadly.

"Nice to meet you," James said. "You can come over there with us, if you'd like." He pointed across the room to the desserts table. "There are some rather good-looking treats over there that I wanted to try."

Sirius' eyes widened as James invited the girl to keep company with them, and he tried to get his friend to catch his eye to communicate his reluctance to spend the rest of the party in her presence, but James ignored him purposefully, knowing that Sirius didn't want a girl to tag along.

The girl smiled, tears forgotten, and stood up, brushing the pastel dress off delicately. Her large blue eyes lit up as she too spied the desserts laid on the table, and she skipped happily over to them, without waiting for the boys to follow.

James walked after her, and Sirius caught up with the slightly taller boy after a second.

"James," Sirius whined. "Why'd you invite that _girl_ to spend the evening with us?"

"I was just being nice, Sirius," James replied. "She was _crying_."

Sirius sighed, but in the end the night didn't turn out so bad after all. They had eventually hidden under the table, and had pulled a tray of tarts off the table and sat underneath for a while, as James and Sirius talked about Quidditch. Callista mostly just listened, before yawning and leaving with a quiet "Bye."

Sirius didn't meet her again, officially, for another six years.

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**Post A/N:** So that's it then, the first chapter. It'll be going like that from now on: the first half or so of the chapter will be taking place around 1995, and the second half or more of the chapter will be taking place back when. Review, if you want.

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	3. Chapter Two: It Makes You Sorry

* * *

**Boomerang**

**  
by**

**  
Padfootzluvr**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Calli..."You Will. You. Will. You? Will. You? Will." belongs to Bright Eyes, "Girl" is by The Beatles, and all Harry Potter characters and places you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

_"She's the kind of girl you want so much  
It makes you sorry  
Still you don't regret a single day..."_

-The Beatles

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** Chapter Two:**

**  
****It Makes You Sorry**

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**Summer 1995**  
**_Number 12 Grimmauld Place  
_**

The patterns of the wood grain were foreign to me, so long had my floor been covered by varying degrees of filth.

I had spent all day attempting to make the room reflect the illusion I was trying to portray: my abrupt personality change that I had undergone since Calli walked out on me. And, if I did so say myself, I had done a bitchass job.

Now I was just waiting for the woman herself to make an appearance.

And, as I was awaiting her arrival, I was tracing the gentle curves and swirls of the wood's natural patterns with my eyes, following the worn areas where I frequently paced, to the chips from magical experiments gone awry, to a large dark burn that must have occurred sometime after I left this hell when I was just a teenager.

The wooden floorboards had been charmed to repel dust, and to stay polished, but the charms had worn off long ago, leaving only a dull sheen as a reminder of this room's past life; of my past life.

Some time before, I had lit a cigarette, but I had hardly taken a drag. The small pile of ash to my left was all that remained of the wasted addiction, the butt a testament to what had originally been.

I pulled another cigarette from behind my ear and lit it with the tip of my wand, inhaling deeply, trying to make up for whatever I had missed in the first one.

I pointed the old wand at the molehill of ash, creating a small whirlwind, then a miniscule tornado, out of its grey matter. The remnants of the cigarette floated lazily, then faster, flitting in and out of the tornado, before I flicked my wrist so the miniature storm found its way through a crack in the now-clean windowpane. Goodbye, Dorothy. See you on the other side of it...

"No bluebirds here."

"Can I come in?"

I didn't need to look to see who was speaking, but I wanted to. I glanced in the mirror beside the bathroom doorway to see Calli's blue eyes staring right back at me in it from the bedroom doorway. I had fixed that squeaking door earlier, so of course I hadn't heard her open it. I inclined my head enough to acknowledge her, and her question, so she stepped in a bit further and shut the door behind her.

"Remus let me in."

I inclined my head once more so she knew I heard her, but turned back to the window and licked my lips before saying, "Stuff's in the bathroom.", then I put the cigarette against my lips and took a deep breath. I had been anticipating her arrival, but now that she was here I wanted nothing more than my solitude once more.

Calli didn't move. "You started smoking again...already?" she said.

I glanced back at her for a second; I couldn't read her emotion, but I knew her opinion on my habit. I responded by making an "o" with my mouth and blowing out the smoke exaggeratedly.

I heard her soft footsteps as she crossed the room toward the bathroom door, but instead of entering it as I thought she would, she hesitated by my side, then sat beside me, cross-legged, on the edge of the bed.

I knew she was waiting for me to look at her, but I wasn't going to do it. I was angry at her for leaving, for not giving me a chance to stop her when she knew I couldn't leave, couldn't fight for her, couldn't...that I just _couldn't_, not without her. It was weak, and dependant, and stupid, but I didn't care.

She sighed when she realized the true multitude of my anger, and I felt her eyes finally move off of me. I relaxed a bit, for the first time since she had spoken.

I inhaled once more before stubbing it out on the bedpost, next to countless other burn marks, each a tally for how long I had been in my new cell.

I looked up in the mirror to see her staring out the window, as I had been doing most of the time since she had arrived. I chanced looking directly at her, but I wasn't prepared to see her so close.

I had never known someone to look so young and old at the same time. Her hair was the same straight, chocolate brown it had always been; her skin was pale, smooth as it had been at 20, though she had earned a couple more lines around her eyes. Her eyes, solid blue, almost too-large, reflected an age that wasn't hers. One would expect a 60-year-old woman to have the same eyes, at the moment. Utter defeat was the only emotion present.

I had never seen anything or anyone more beautiful.

Her eyes left the window to meet mine, and the defeat left abruptly, replaced by a thousand unnameable emotions.

"I'm sorry."

I had opened my mouth to say it, but she had beaten me to it. For a second, my heart jumped to my throat--_she was sorry! She was coming back! It would be like none of it ever_—but no. She was apologizing, but it was an apology devoid of any reason for which I was searching.

"I can't," she continued, her ancestral eyes pleading with me, begging me. "Not anymore."

I heard her words, but I ignored them. There had to be a way, any way, to convince her-

Somehow my mind and body didn't get the message to one another to communicate with Calli how much I needed her—through _words_. Instead, I found my lips on hers, found my tongue massaging hers, found my hands in her hair, on her waist, pulling her onto my lap, found her back arching, pushing her chest into mine at a familiar, frantic pace--

But she pulled away just as I found this scene playing out, and shook her head in a panicked manner. "No, Sirius, I can't-"

"_You_ can't? No, _I _can't! Calli, no, you can't...I...please!"

"No, I-"

"_'Can't_', yes I've heard, but _please_-"

"Please, Sirius!"

I pulled her back to me. Lips, tongues, legs, hands tangled. I didn't want to hear her anymore, didn't want to hear how she couldn't be with me, stay with me, love me, be my-

But she could be my-she could still be my-if I just-

My thoughts were jumbled, they made no sense, held no coherence. It was disturbingly familiar.

"Sirius, I _can't_!" She had pulled away again, but only enough to say those most terrible three words, just as I said the only three words that could possibly be worse:

"I love you!"

"Well...stop! You _can't!"_

_ "I do!"_

_ "_Well_ I _don't!"

Like I hadn't heard _that_ before...Once more, I pulled her to me, taking out my anger on her lips, biting her lips, and her tongue, too hard, but it didn't matter anymore, she was scratching my back and it felt too good to stop again. I knew she wanted to pull away but needed to push me onto the bed, onto my back further; and she did, thighs on either side of mine. And as she pushed herself into me with increasing fervor and urgency, my hands were finding their way to places familiar to me, well-traveled throughout the years-

Suddenly, the fire that appeared everywhere she touched dissipated, and was replaced by utter cold.

"Wh-"

"I can't believe you!" Calli was against the wall, avoiding my eyes, fixing her disheveled hair and clothes.

"Bu-"

"Honestly! I come here to get my shit and you-you-ugh!"

"Er-"

"Sirius, when the fuck are you going to grow up? You can't keep me here by trying to fuck me!"

"I di-"

"Oh yes you did! Don't try to tell me that wasn't your exact plan! 'Get Cali into bed, that'll convince her', I mean..._honestly, Sirius!" _The tip of her nose had gone a slight pink, and she turned and tore into the lavatory, and the sounds of her rummaging around were heard.

_Well. So much for _that_ plan..._

It would be pointless to point out how she had been the one pushing me back on the bed, wouldn't it?

* * *

--

** December, 1972**

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
**_

"Bye, mate...are you _sure _you don't want to come with my family to our cabin over break? My parents love you better than me, they wouldn't-"

"No, James, it's fine. Go have fun on your vacation, I'll be alright here," Sirius muttered, staring at the dying embers of the previous night's fire. Each ember glowed red, then dulled, then resumed its glow, and continued to pulse with a heartbeat more vital than Sirius felt his own was at the moment.

"Alright..." James was obviously reluctant, his eyes darting across his best friend's face worriedly as he picked up his dragonhide traveling bag. "Owl me if you change your mind, yeah?"

Sirius started to say that he wouldn't change his mind, wouldn't want to intrude on a real, functional family's Christmas with his stupid dramas, but the worried flitting of James' eyes from behind his glasses was enough to convince the Black to nod. A smile briefly appeared across James' face and he turned to depart, calling farewell as he left through the portrait hole. The last Gryffindor had left.

Sirius sighed, already lonely. How was he going to last this holiday on his own without going mad? His only other option, returning to his own home, would be unbearable; this was proved by the previous winter holiday, during which he _did_ return home. His father had ignored him, his cousins had treated him with the disdain normally reserved for Mudbloods, and even his younger brother, who didn't entirely understand what was happening, knew better than to treat Sirius with any friendly inclinations. His mother, however, had been by far the worst: though he had always been a trouble-maker, his mother had always treated Sirius as the favorite child. He showed a strong talent for magic early on, both purposefully and not, while Regulus, who was two years younger, had hardly shown any interest, let alone talent for, spells and such. After he had been sorted into Gryffindor, though, Mrs. Black had taken to coddling little Reggie and glaring at her older son with such disdain that Sirius felt he couldn't be in the same room. Her treatment of her son made Sirius feel as if he wasn't worthy of being a Black, and, true to Sirius's upbringing, that was the worst feeling in the world. At least, the worst feeling he had felt so far in his twelve-year-old life.

As he stared into the fireplace, the feeling of boredom and loneliness was slowly replaced by another: exhaustion. Mentally, physically, emotionally...Sirius was exhausted. He had been up the night before planning the great prank to mark the students' return to Hogwarts. Earlier that day Sirius hadn't been tired, but now he could feel the effects of his nocturnal endeavors catching up with him. The glowing embers were turning dark, one by one by one by one, each pulse resuming its glow at a fraction of what it had been at before.

A series of loud thunks woke Sirius. He shot straight up, his head snapping to the source of the noise, at his right.

"Whoops...sorry..."

Sirius just stared as Callista Crouch raced down from the top step of the girls' staircase, where she had been standing, to the bottom, where her trunk had fallen. In the process, the heavy object had hit every single step.

Sirius blinked a few times; he hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep, let alone that he wasn't alone.

"Uhh, yeah it's alright, I should...be awake anyways." As he spoke, Sirius stood from the couch and strode toward where Calli was bending to pick up her trunk. "I can get that for you..."

"Nah, it's alright...just slipped out of my hands as I was going upstairs," she replied, smiling and picking up the end closest to her.

"I didn't know you were staying here for the holidays," Sirius remarked. He hadn't known that _any _Gryffindors but him were staying at the school.

"Neither did I, but my dad met me at the train station in Hogsmeade...Guess some big thing at the ministry was going to keep him away for a while, and neither my brother nor my sister was planning on coming home for the holidays this year. He didn't want me to be alone at home. He asked McGonagall if she could take me back up to the castle, so here I am."

"You live in Eastern London?" Sirius asked, Her accent was decidedly of a different lifestyle than Sirius knew the Crouch family to be. As she stood, Sirius noted with a slight frown that she was a tad bit taller than him.

Calli giggled a little. "It's my speech, yeah?" Without waiting for Sirius's answer, she continued, "We have an unmappable home near the West India Docks. It's where I've lived most my life. Strange place, but my family has lived there for years. You live in London?"

"Yeah...Camden," Sirius replied, trying to inconspicuously make himself appear taller.

"Far out, you'll have to come visit me sometime!"

"Yeah, vice versa," Sirius said, looking down at her trunk. "I can help you with that, you know...really, it's not a big deal."

"If you insist," Calli said with an exaggerated sigh, taking up one of the end handles. Sirius picked up the opposite one, and they began to make their way up the stairs. As they reached the midway point, the stairs collapsed to form a slide, and Calli, Sirius, and the trunk found themselves in a small heap at the foot of the stairs.

"Shit," Sirius cursed, pulling the heavy trunk off of his leg. He turned to what would be his only companion over the winter holiday, only to see her bending at the middle, her head down and shoulders shaking. "You alright?" He leaned and touched her shoulder to see her face, only to find her silently laughing, face turning pink very rapidly.

"I am _so_ sorry!" she managed to gasp out between chuckles. "I honestly forgot about the girls' staircase-"

"Me too, it's fine," Sirius replied, relieved that she wasn't hurt. "Sorry that I can't-"

"No it's alright, it's fine," Calli brushed his apology off, still grinning. She stood and bent to pick up the fallen trunk and began to drag it up the stairs, not flinching as the end of the trunk hit each step with a loud thudding noise.

So maybe he wouldn't have to be alone this holiday after all...

* * *

**Post A/N:** _Sorry for the wait, my pretties. I have just recently acquired a "job" (ewww) & the summer of madness between my last year of high school & my freshman year at college has been just that: a summer of madness. Review if you please, my beautiful readers, if for nothing other than to curse at me for forcing you all to wait this long for a mediocre chapter. I apologize once more._

* * *


	4. Chapter Three: Faith In Nothing

* * *

**Boomerang**

**  
by**

**Padfootzluvr**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Calli..."You Will. You. Will. You? Will. You? Will." belongs to Bright Eyes, "Beautiful Oblivion" belongs to Eve 6, and all Harry Potter characters and places you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

___"_ ...Find nothin' but faith in nothing  
Wanna putmy tender heart in a blender  
Watch it spin round to a beautiful oblivion..."

-Eve 6

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

**Faith in Nothing**

* * *

**_  
12 Grimmauld Place  
June 1995_**

"I just wanna die," I groaned, flopping onto my bed. A few papers that had been resting nearby from the previous night of drunken nostalgia fluttered to the ground. "Why couldn't Monny've laced the hangover potion with poison..."

_ Great. Now I'm talking to myself...Crazy Sirius Black, fresh from prison. So crazy! Maybe Azkaban really has gotten to me..._Remus for one never missed a chance to suggest the theory.

"Stupid Remus," I muttered to myself, ignoring my cute quirk of insanity for the time being. I sat up and doubled over, bending to gently pick up a tattered old wizard photograph that had fallen.

The worn edges were frayed from years of being sans frame. It was Sirius's second favorite picture of Calli. Her hair was at its longest, down her back, straightened magically with a wreath of daisies dancing and tangling in her crown.

She was laughing exuberantly at something off to the side: most likely James had said or done something outrageous. It was apparent by her very natural laughter that she was not initially aware that the photograph was being taken.

She wasn't at all self-conscious in the picture; then, she would turn to the camera, held by her father, and smile lovingly. It was taken when she was fourteen, the summer before their Fourth Year at Hogwarts, on the Crouch Estate. That was the summer she began to date James.

* * *

** June 1974**  
**_ Crouch Estate  
_**

"You're ridiculous!" Calli laughed, pushing James away as he fastened the wreath in her hair.

"There," he said very seriously, satisfied with his handiwork's secure hold. "Now you look like a proper flower-child, unlike the war-mongering witch you used to be-"

"James!" she shouted, beaming nonetheless. A loud shutter-click made her turn left and her expression softened. "Dad, what're you doing?"

"Trying to get this bleeding thing to work properly," Caspar answere hastily, indicating the large device he held in his hands.

Calli strongly suspected that he was lying, and that he knew perfectly well how to work the new camera, but she didn't say anything as James leaned over to help.

"Here, Mr. C., like this-"

Calli bit back a grin, not entirely successfully, as James was nearly hit with the huge, detachable flash.

"Like this?"

"Er, no, I don't think-"

"Or-?"

"_Gah!_"

Calli giggled very uncharacteristically as James ducked a blow to the head. Joining in her laughter was a long, lean boy who was laying languidly on his stomach nearer to the pond.

Calli glanced backwards over her shoulder at him, catching his eye, before turning and joining the teenager, mimicking his pose. She continued smiling, resting her chin on her hands, and watched her father and best friend fiddle with Mr. Crouch's new obsession.

Sirius glanced at her, then their mutual best friend, who glanced over and returned Calli's grin, then back to Calli herself.

"Aww," he cooed, gently mocking her. "Young love..." He sighed wistfully and nudged her should with his.

"Shut up, Sirius!" she laughed, punching his shoulder a little more forcefully than she normally would.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" he smirked.

"Just because _you_ don't have a girlfriend..."

Sirius frowned. "Shut up," he mumbled, trning away.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" she imitated him.

Sirius scowled. It was true: Sandra, a young witch who lived near James, had broken up with him a couple weeks back and he hadn't found anyone of interest since. At least, not of _lingering_ interest.

A little bit of time passed before James gave up helping an apparently hopeless Caspar Crouch, who took to photographing the lazily swaying trees.

"Hey," Calli said softly.

Sirius turned to reply, but saw that her attention was solely on James, who had silently joined their relaxing company; Calli's curved lips, tilted head, and half-lidded eyes were all being drunk in by the youngest Potter.

Sirius scowled once more, and glared at a tree. They were being way too sappy.

"Sirius, will you come inside and help the missus set the table for sinner?" Caspar called.

"But-" Sirius began, before noticing Caspar's emphatic look at the lounging pair next to him, who were alternating between stealing glances at the other and watching the crimson sky grow violet.

Sirius sighed, then rode and followed Mr. Crouch inside. They both saw Mrs. Crouch leaning over the sink, washcloth in hand, "aww"ing over James and Calli.

"Aren't they cute?" she remarked, finally turning from the window.

"Oh, _so_ cute..." Sirius mumbled.

The Crouches ignored his comment with surprisingly good nature.

"Always knew it would happen eventually," Caspar answered, rolling his eyes conspiratorially at Sirius, who returned his grin reluctantly.

"Makes me sort of nauseous, honestly," Sirius said before he could stop himself. Afterwards, he was surprised he didn't regret his remark: he hated seeing his best friend stolen by a girl.

Caspar laughed, sitting at the kitchen table. Sirius followed, avoiding looking out the window.

"You'll change your mind one day, Sirius," Mrs. Crouch said with a kind smile, showing her dimples as she flicked her wand at a saucepan. "You'll find a nice girl, settle down-"

"Merlin's trousers, the boy's only fourteen, Hon! He's too young to be thinking about that kind of stuff!" Caspar exclaimed with a wink in Sirius's direction. "So're Cal and James, for that matter, so don't start planning their wedding in that beautiful head of yours!"

Sirius didn't hear Mrs. Crouch's response. He had accidentally glanced out the window and caught sight of James and Calli's first kiss together.

_Oh well_, he inwardly sighed, defeated. _At least it'd be a break from hearing about Lily Evans twenty-four/seven..._

* * *

_**Post A/N:**_ Told you I would update soon. Short, I know...I wrote it in Newport while I was visiting my sister before her wedding, so everything is sligtly jaded because of that.

* * *


	5. Chapter Four: In Truth

* * *

**Boomerang **

**by**

**Padfootzluvr**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Calli..."You Will. You. Will. You? Will. You? Will." belongs to Bright Eyes, "Chocolate" belongs to Snow Patrol, and all Harry Potter characters and places you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

_"...goodness knows I saw it coming  
Or at least I'll claim I did  
But in truth I'm lost for words..."_  
-Snow Patrol

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

**In Truth**

* * *

**  
Number 12 Grimmauld Place  
_July 1995_**

**  
**  
"Brought you this," Calli murmured, sliding an iced coffee down the scratched table to Sirius's end.

"Thanks," he mumbled, catching the coffee right before it tumbled over the edge. His eyes were closed, brows were drawn, and his thumb and forefinger were pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Hangover?" she inquired, taking the seat to his right.

He sighed, letting his hand drop to the table, wrapping it around the plastic cup. "Regular headache. When's this thing supposed to start?"

"Um...In ten minutes or so." Calli tilted her head to look at her ex-lover's face, letting her newly cut hair fall to its new place around her shoulders.

Sirius's top lip curled unpleasantly on one side, and he removed his now damp hand from the condensation on the cup. His eyes raised to Calli's face for the first time, his scowl softening, and he examined her new haircut seriously. He hesitated, then decided not to tell her how he had liked her hair better long. She would have just rolled her eyes and said how it didn't matter how he liked her hair, anyways.

It had been only a few days since their climactic and hectic breakup, and already the pair was coming to a tentative truce. They didn't argue; at least, not outright. Every now and then their passive-aggressive sides reared their hideous heads, but for the most part they kept their snide comments in check.

Like many women after a long relationship's end, Calli had desired a change in her appearance, and had gone from straight hair to the center of her back to loose waves to the tops of her shoulder blades. Although the lazy curls suited her, and framed her delicate features well, Sirius had to admit he was sad to see her long brown tresses go.

Calli had decided to take the "concerned ex" route, and took to inquiring about Sirius's health, his mood, his general outlook on life, to the point where Sirius started lying to get her to shut the hell up.

Remus, on the other hand, was beginning to become increasingly amused by the situation, and often found himself stifling a chuckle at his friends' discomfort and strange interactions.

Everyone else who was staying in Grimmauld Place, though they sensed the tension and instinctively shied away from mentioning anything that might ignite Sirius's hot temper, or might cause Calli to freeze up, did not know the details of the relationship.

Most of the Order itself, who had known Calli and Sirius since they were kids (all who were old enough to, anyhow) or at least knew most of the details of the situation, were careful to sidestep any sore subject that might cause another fight.

The breakup, or "the break", as it was known, was the subject of gossip amongst the inhabitants of the house...whether for the actual excitement over something to gossip over, or just a distraction from Doxies, no one can be certain. It was known as "the break" because anytime someone started to mention the word "breakup", somehow either Sirius or Calli appeared, cutting the offending someone off mid-word,and causing their cheeks to grow flaming red (especially if that someone was, and they often happened to be, a Weasley) as they stuttered on about breaking curtain rods while detoxing the house

They were not, however, always entirely successful in their hush-hush, mum's-the-word routine, least of all when someone genuinely attempted an upset. The day after Calli's first return to the Black Manor since "the break", there was an Order meeting. Calli was running a bit late, a fact that did not, predictably, go unnoticed by one Sirius Black.

When, however, he pointed said fact out, he was received with the following comment, which was muttered under a Mr. Severus Snape's breath:

"Merlin forbid she have the freedom to be outside this forsaken house, and away from-"

That was as far as the sneering voice got, however, before his chair was thrown backward by Sirius's full body weight. Remus managed to wrestle his friend away despite their differences in body types, just in time for Calli to walk in breathlessly, looking flushed, muttering an apology for her tardiness as she stared at the scene before her. She could easily guess what had happened, and, with her characteristic roll of eyes, took the empty seat next to Snape after he righted himself with as much dignity as could be mustered.

The event had not gained Sirius any favors from Calli; however, over the following few days, the two developed a strange, if tense, politeness and civility.

This simple gesture of bringing Sirius a coffee from the little shop down the way, however, was the first act of friendliness either had shown the other since "the break". It was something Calli had done for Sirius often when they had been together: bringing him a coffee or tea, a small token or reminder that there _was_ still a world outside the new prison in which he found himself.

Then today, the act was so recognizable that at first Sirius took it for granted as something she had always done, before he caught himself and realized the action might have some significance.

"Thanks," he repeated, lifting the drink before taking a long sip. He drank through a straw the way he smoked a cigarette: it was long, drawn out, and a carefully lazy procedure than only old money purebloods could perform.

"Mm-hm..." she responded, eyes down as she penned something in a planner that she held in her left hand. The planner was new. This Calli was not one that Sirius recognized. Gone were the casual jeans and shirt, naturally undone hair, impulsive behavior that he found both exciting and familiar: she now planned, made lists, wore dramatic eye makeup, curled her hair, dressed in low-cut shirts-oh. Oh, no...oh no oh no oh no.

And Sirius, who had never been one for religion, found himself praying to every god, goddess, and rockstar he had ever heard of. He found himself wishing that the conclusion to which he had come was not the reality.

"So..." Sirius began, trying to sound casual. "What are you doing after the meeting?"

_Buddha, Jesus, Zeus, Odin, Vishnu, Ra_...why limit himself to deities?

"I dunno..." she answered, not looking up to meet his gaze. She appeared to be staring at a point in the planner...a point that was shielded from his eyes by her hand, curled around a quill.

-_John Locke, Merlin, Hermes, Morgana, Allah, Mars, mother earth, Osiris-_

"Really...I know Remus wanted some help on his new resumé, and you know I've hardly ever worked, so I don't really know how to help him, so maybe you could..."

-_Krishna, Ishmael, Madonna, Mary, Joseph and Son_...he was getting desperate now, repeating himself.

"I can't...I'm, er...doing...something..."

-_Yahweh-_

"I thought you didn't have plans."

_-Anansi, Odin's ravens, Albus Dumbledore, Marilyn Monroe, JOHN LENNON!_ It was no good. Inevitability would prevail.

"Well, I do...they just aren't definite. I mean, I have plans to meet someone, I just don't know what we are going to do. And by that I mean we are definitely doing _something-_ I just don't...So you see, I wasn't lying when I said I didn't know, because I _do_ know I am doing _something_, I just don't know what that something _is_, so-"

Liar. Liar liar liar. She always talked her way into the heart of the labyrinth when she was trying to get out. All you had to do was sit back and wait for her to spill. But, as Calli rambled on, waiting became less of an option to the famously impatient Sirius Black, and he waited until she was looking at the kitchen door (no doubt hoping for someone to enter so she could avoid this subject) before he snatched up her planner and flipped to the day's date.

"I knew it! You have a _date!_"

"Sirius!"

"A date! _A date?!_ Calli it's been-what?-three, four fucking days?"

"Sirius Black! That is my personal-"

"I cannot _believe_ you! Jesus-fucking-Merlin's balls-"

"Oh Christ, Sirius, grow up! You can't expect me to just keep waiting another twelve or thirteen years to move on, can you?" This last sentence was hissed quietly, venomously. They had stood, and were centimeters from one another, faces flushed, breathing hard.

Despite their anger, Sirius found his wide eyes drawn down to her lips, and caught himself before he leaned in. He brought his gaze back to hers, and was slightly relieved, deep down, that she hadn't noticed his near slip.

"You did not wait twelve years to move on, Calli," he replied calmly. Her eyes narrowed at his cocky tone, aware that he thought he had the upper hand in their argument now.

This was how their arguments tended to play out, though usually were more long-winded than the current quarrel. They would yell, their voices escalating, insulting, sometimes objects would be thrown and would shatter on the wall where the other's head had been seconds before, until one spotted the other's fallacy and targeted in, gaining the advantage.

"Physically, no. Emotionally, yeah, I did."

"You got ma-"

"We had been dating for damn near eight years, Sirius!" He opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. "Not continuously, granted, but nonetheless."

"But you marr-"

"Oh shut up. Just shut up. If you would step back from the fucking mirror for a second, you might notice that there are other people in your life, not just you, and you are affecting theirs. More often the case is that you aren't exactly having a positive effect, either-"

"Oh bol-"

"Sirius?" A new voice entered the conversation, and both turned to see a ghost of their former friend standing in the doorway.

"-loney." Calli and Harry both stared at Sirius. "Bologna. Are you hungry, Harry?" The teenager shook his head, staring at his possibly insane godfather with an expression that resembled one that James would give Sirius so much, that both Calli and Sirius's expressions immediately softened. Sirius continued, grinning. "Because Calli can make a fantastic sandwich. Bologna or otherwise. I've heard her cheese sandwiches are especially fantastic. I know she doesn't look like much of a cook-she's no Molly Weasley, let's face it-but she _is_ a woman, so I mean the cooking gene has to be in there some-Ow!"

Calli had thrown a nearby apple at Sirius, managing to hit his shoulder with considerable force. She beamed, obviously pleased that her Quidditch skills were still intact. "Ha ha!" she said triumphantly, their fight not forgotten, but subdued for a while.

Sirius smirked back, tossing her the planner and turning to his godson. "Calli, Harry. Harry, Calli."

"Nice to meet you," Harry muttered, averting his eyes from her rather low cut blouse quickly; the action did not go unnoticed by Sirius, whose smirk grew wider.

"And you," Calli replied, a sweet tone immediately replacing the malicious one that had been evident mere seconds before.

Harry had arrived a few days before, and was beginning to get used to the strange life at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Right...sorry we're late, it'll be a short one today, we don't have everyone here-Oh! Harry! What are you doing here? Never mind, go on, go on up, we'll be done in a minute, you can come right back down then. So! Right. Hello," Remus looked between Calli and Sirius cautiously, entering the kitchen followed by Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Alastor Moody and Mundungus Fletcher shuffled in next, and a small sea of redheads could be seen over Mundungus's rust-colored hair and dirty cap.

"Hey," Calli replied half-heartedly, sitting in her previous chair beside Sirius. Sirius sat as well, gesturing to Harry that they would talk later, and turned his attention back to his fellow Marauder.

"Right," Remus said slowly. "Right, let's get going then. No Dumbledore, today, I'm afraid. Just us...yes, yes, yes, sit down everyone. Alright. Let's get this started."

* * *

**Potter Mansion  
_December 1974_**

There is very little more juvenile than playing Wizard's Spin-the-Bottle. The game combined both flirting, snogging, and humiliation into one fun little game using a bottle, a wand, and truth potion if anyone can get ahold of it. And yet, here Callista Crouch found herself, sitting next to her boyfriend and his best friends, as well as other witches and wizards whose ages ranged from around fourteen to sixteen, playing Wizard's Spin-the-Bottle.

They had found a way to ensure an exciting game by bewitching a bottle in the center to land on whomever the chosen witch or wizard wanted to kiss most in the room. The entire point was to find out who liked who, and so far the game was going swimmingly in that sense.

It was Marlene McKinnon's turn next. The auburn-haired witch tapped her lip with her index finger, looking at the collection of a dozen or so teenagers, each biting their own lips or nails in anxiousness. Finally her brown eyes rested on the wizard sitting to Calli's right.

"James." With Marlene's wicked grin that accompanied her decision, and her fiery hued curls around her temples, she looked very much like a mischievous devil.

James matched Marlene's grin easily. "Alrght then, let's have it."

"Go ahead and give Calli-I mean, _whoever the bottle lands on_, a kiss on the cheek."

"On the cheek? That's rather cheap, isn't it?" James grinned, leaning forward anyways. He grabbed ahold of the green glass bottle and glanced at Calli, who smiled back, before spinning it. Unsurprisingly, it stopped spinning quite quickly, pointing to his girlfriend.

James leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the cheek, then pulled away, before leaning in once more to kiss her more thoroughly on the lips.

The surrounding company laughed.

"Oy! I said _on the cheek_! Oh...oh alright then," Marlene chuckled.

James finally pulled back amid catcalls, and leaned back in his spot at the circle, satisfied. "Alright, let's see..."

He examined everyone in the room. Some were shaking their heads, not wanting to be called upon. Calli was one of these. "It'll just land on you," she whispered, grinning.

"Oh, what, and that's a bad thing?" James teased.

"Hey, no repeats," Marlene admonished.

"Right..." James scanned again, his eyes landing on his best friend, who was flirting with a lovely brunette across the circle. "Sirius."

"Yeah?" Sirius looked up to find all eyes on him. "Oh. Right." He glanced back at the brunette, smiling cockily. "Let's hear it then."

"Alright," James said. He grinned. "You get...a five minute kiss, in front of all of us, with the bottle...er, landee?"

"Landee?" Sirius echoed, raising an eyebrow and catching a laugh in his throat.

"Yes," James replied in a very mock serious tone. "Landee. Five minutes. Go."

Sirius smiled, leaned forward, and spun the bottle. It kept spinning for a lot longer than it had with James.

"Maybe he just wants to kiss all of us," Marlene muttered as it kept spinning.

"Oh, especially you, Marlene," Sirius retorted kiddingly, watching the bottle carefully.

Finally, it slowed to a stop.

A few people gasped dramatically, slightly tipsy from the wizard and muggle beer they had nicked. Others stared at James, waiting for a reaction. The ones who stared at Calli and Sirius, however, received the most entertaining sight.

Both Calli and Sirius's faces had gone perfectly blank, and Sirius's had gone stark white. He stared at the bottle, then his gaze traveled to where it pointed, up long thin legs folded under a lithe body, a slender neck, to the delicate features and large eyes of Callista Crouch. Calli stared right back.

Sirius swallowed, and chanced a glance at his best friend, who was staring back at him, bemused. James' brows came untangled as Sirius's grey eyes met his, and he raised his dark brows, holding his hands up.

"Hey, just don't steal her, eh, mate?"

The tension alleviated a little, and everyone laughed nervously.

"I think the charm might be wearing off," Sirius muttered, glancing back to Calli.

"Probably," Marlene replied, trying to keep her tone light-hearted. "Er...but..."

"The other charm _is_ still working."

"Exactly."

"Alright then," Sirius sighed, standing up and coming around to Calli's side of the circle. They had purchased a mild charm from a joke shop that was made for just such games. It colored anyone who refused to complete their turn of the game their least favorite color. Sirius wasn't feeling particularly up to having green hair and skin, so he kneeled beside Calli with a sheepish smile by way of apology.

Calli turned to face him, very determined to not see the expression on James's face, and leaned in.

Sirius kissed Calli, expecting guilt to flood him, but was more than pleasantly surprised as all outside noise seemed muffled, and he forgot that it was his best mate's girl he was kissing, and he let his hands take their usual positions: one behind the head, the other on her waist. He pulled her closer and angled her head. Before he could deepen the kiss, however, he found her tongue at his lips, beyond his lips, not tentative as he expected, but beginning to dominate. His lips curled in a smile as he pushed closer, determined to win this battle.

Calli found herself smiling as well, both hands finding their way to his hair and grabbing ahold of him, arms around his neck, body flush against his.

The muffled noise around her went up a pitch, and the volume suddenly came back in full force with James shouting, "Alright, alright, already!"

The pair pulled back, but didn't untangle themselves from one another.

Calli glanced around, immediately regretting it as Marlene gave her a look of mingled admiration and shock. Calli found her boyfriend's eyes, but he wasn't looking at her, but at Sirius.

Calli's gaze fell down to Sirius, who-...down? She looked down further to see that somehow during their miniature snog session she had meandered onto his lap. And Sirius was staring at her lips, eyes half-closed, looking very high indeed.

"Okay!" Calli said loudly, scrambling off of him and back beside James.

Sirius moved in slow motion back to his spot in the circle, ignoring the stares and avoiding James' glare spectacularly.

He turned to the brunette he had been chatting up in the circle and grinned. "You know you're a close second, right?"

He didn't hear her answer, but he later recounted that he would have bet his and James' lives that she had rolled her eyes and told him to go do something inappropriate to himself.

* * *

**  
Post A/N:** At least it's long, right...? Haha...right? Ugh right I know. I'll do better next time? More Remus & Sirius banter next chapter, friends. Peace for now.

* * *


	6. Chapter Five: Carve Your Number

* * *

**Boomerang **

**by**

**Padfootzluvr**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Calli..."You Will. You. Will. You? Will. You? Will." belongs to Bright Eyes, "If I Needed Someone" belongs to The Beatles, and all Harry Potter characters and places you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

_"...Carve your number on my wall  
And maybe you will get a call from me  
If I needed someone..."_  
-The Beatles

* * *

******Chapter Five:**

**  
****Carve Your Number**

* * *

**__****12 Grimmauld Place  
Summer 1995**  


"Are you alright, Sirius?"

I was staring at the fireplace of the library, trying very hard not to think about much of anything at all. I should have known better than to use the library to brood, however, because inevitably it was would be occupied by either Remus or Hermione. Either outcome was unfortunate, but at least Remus knew most of the circumstances of my situation. As is my luck, it was Hermione who wandered into the dark room, undoubtedly in search of a not-yet-memorized book.

I passed a worn hand across my unshaven face, exhausted, before turning and smiling only enough to alleviate the uncomfortable silence. "Yes. Sorry for intruding on your…retreat…" I looked around at the countless volumes lining the shelves, most decrepit with age and dust and lack of use.

Hermione blushed, murmuring something about the whole house belonging to me, anyways. I waved her off, trying to not to show that I was bothered, trying not purge myself of the idea of Calli out with some bloke she had just met, doing Merlin-knows…well, I knew what they might be doing, but I quickly rid my mind of that particularly nasty thought and proceeded to stand, leaving Hermione to her—for I would never claim ownership over such contents of this wretched house—books.

I found my way back to the kitchen, where Harry and Remus sat, each seemingly bothered by his own misfortunes. They both raised their heads hopefully when I entered, and I ignored the brief disappointment that flashed across each face. Harry recovered more quickly, offering a half-hearted smile, which I, in turn, only half-heartedly reciprocated.

Remus sighed, following the intricate designs on his empty goblet with his eyes languidly.

Harry also sighed, although in a much more frustrated, perturbed manner.

I refrained from sighing as well, although I knew that Molly, as she entered the kitchen huffily, could see that I was very nearly on the verge of it.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" she said, already working herself into a snit. Normally, I would have egged her on, but I was in no such mood and simply rested my chin on my curled palm, my eyes turning to the cupboards above the older woman's graying red hair. "Honestly, you would think that the three of you would at least try to take your moping somewhere in this mansion where it wouldn't vex the rest of us so, but no: here you are, right in the thick of it, the kitchen of all places, right when I am trying to prepare a meal—"

I actually found myself ignoring her, which, considering the pitch her voice had taken on would normally have been quite difficult to do. The cupboard to the Remus's left, which contained several vintage bottles of wine, was looking mighty tempting. Remus followed my line of vision inconspicuously, while Molly lectured on about standards of behavior for adults and teenagers alike. My oldest friend turned back to me, eyebrows raised. I nodded just the smallest bit, my eyes widening emphatically.

"I completely agree, Molly," Remus interrupted as politely as was possible, standing in that gentle manner of his. "Sirius and I will be getting right out of your way, presently."

I followed suit, standing and inclining my head to Molly, trying to keep the grin from my face as Remus surreptitiously cracked open the cupboard while standing right in front of it. Molly's attention was still trained on him, though, so I impulsively decided to arrest it the only way I could currently see.

"I'm sure Harry would enjoy helping you prepare a lovely supper, Molly," I suggested, unable to keep the corners of my lips from twitching as I watched my godson's face pale, and his eyes widen behind his glasses. His head turned to the left, almost undetectably, then twitched just a tad to the right, imploringly. I almost gave in, seeing my dead best friend's pleading expression taking over, and for a second I saw hazel eyes instead of Lily's bright green. But then I blinked, passive once more, and planted a falsely sweet grin on my face. "Wouldn't you, Harry?"

Once more, I felt like I was staring at a ghost as I saw not my godson, but Lily Evans-Potter glaring at me, her emerald eyes flashing, but again I blinked and the disturbing vision was replaced by Harry once more. He was giving me a look that very clearly said he would have his revenge, and I couldn't help but chuckle just the tiniest bit as Molly didn't wait for an answer, and pulled him over to the opposite counter.

I looked back at Remus, who caught my eye before turning and leaving the kitchen swiftly. I followed.

"Well done, I thought we would have been caught for sure," Remus said once we had reached the stairs. "Although I feel a little foolish, skirting around Molly Weasley like a fourth year—"

"Like we needed—or, I suppose, like I needed—another lecture about setting an example for the children running rampant—"

"Luckily you had that brilliant idea of—"

"Throwing James to the wolves? No offense. But yeah, it was the only thing that popped into my—what?"

Remus was staring at my oddly then. "Did you just call Harry 'James'?"

I stopped, thinking. "No…I…Slip of the tongue, I suppose."

"Right," Remus still looked unsure.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, Moony, you can't be serious. I know the difference between—I mean, I know James is—You know I've been reminded enough," I was beginning to get a bit angry. It was easy enough for him; he hadn't had to find their bodies, he hadn't had to live every day knowing it was his fault, he hadn't had to relive that most horrible memory every day for the past fourteen years.

"I'm sorry, you're right," Remus cut into my thoughts hastily, looking away.

"Of course I'm right," I muttered angrily. Remus looked awfully guilty, though, so I grabbed the wine from his hand, grinning. "Come on. My parents were probably saving this for when I produced a pureblood heir, or something."

"Oh, their naïveté…" Remus sighed dreamily, hand to his heart.

I couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter; he looked ridiculous. We found our way to my suite, and I lounged on the settee with the bottle, trying to figure out a way to break the curse that had it sealed. It wouldn't be a dangerous one; probably just had a password of some sort. Oh…

"Toujours Pur," I muttered unenthusiastically. The seal immediately broke, and I contemplated the ancient wine for a moment before tipping the bottle back, allowing the sickly sweet stuff to fill my mouth. I coughed wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Remus, who had found his way to a box of photos and memorabilia, looked up, smiling tiredly. I help out the bottle, still coughing, and trying not to laugh at the same time. It was potent…and absolutely terrible.

Remus took a quick swig out of the bottle before coughing as well, head down. He handed the bottle back to me, grinning as tears came to his eyes from lack of immediate air. "That's bloody awful," he rasped, summoning a glass of water from my nightstand. He gulped it quickly before turning back to an album he had retrieved from the box. "I can't imagine why anyone would actually want to drink—"

He looked up as I lowered the now half-empty bottle, blinking rapidly. "What? It isn't so bad…"

Remus looked at me appraisingly before opening the album. The dust fell from the cover, and he immediately let out a breath he had apparently been holding. "Where did you get these?" he whispered. The pictures were half wizard photographs, from days at Hogwarts and after, with the occasional Muggle picture from James and Lily's wedding day. Remus glanced up only for second before turning back to the album, turning the page, and examining the half a dozen or so miniatures of himself and his friends, all waving or laughing, carefree.

"Some were in my vault…some were here, under some charmed floorboards," I answered. The only photo of me in the room, on the walls, was directly across from us, on the opposite wall. It was a wizard picture, the four occupants of the frame carefree, with no idea what their lives, their futures, would hold. Sirius grabbed the neck of the bottle and drank as much of the disgustingly sweet stuff as he could.

Remus glanced around searching for a change of subject. "Why didn't your parents take any of this down?" He gestured vaguely to the Muggle posters of motorcycles and scantily clad icons from the seventies. There was more than one Farrah Fawcett grinning down at them blankly.

"A very, very permanent Permanent Sticking Charm. It required a potion as well as a spell…Andromeda helped," I replied. I hardly noticed the posters and such anymore, they had been, and were again now, such a daily staple in my life.

"Has Calli ever said anything about them?" Remus smiled dryly, admiring one of the better preserved, and less clothed, ladies on the nearby wall.

"She had a lot to say about them when she first saw them…but that was back in…oh, fifth year? She more or less ignores them by now." I didn't add that there had been the one poster that I had of a witch (who winked and blew kisses, among other things, when you were watching) that she had forced me to remove, and it hadn't exactly been easy to find a counter spell for that particularly strong Sticking Charm.

Remus simply "hmm'd", looking at a rare picture of Lily and Calli genuinely enjoying one another's company. It wasn't that they disliked each other…they just never entirely saw eye to eye. It probably never helped that James and Calli almost always got along swimmingly, either. Despite this, the two had bonded over something very secret, something they didn't tell any of us. Because of her closeness to James, and this strange, grudging bond between the two witches, Calli ended up being a bridesmaid at the Potters' wedding.

Remus set the album aside and looked at the next photo: James and I were draped in repose across the Gryffindor Common Room couches, smiling at nothing, our eyes more than half closed. Every now and then we would blink, or yawn, and on occasion we would laugh at something trivial.

"Think you might be a little high here?" he laughed.

"Just a little," I answered. "See, that album—" I pointed. "—is full of perfectly respectable photos of several upstanding gentlemen and a couple ladies, all quite worthy of, oh, let's say, Molly's approval. I was going to give Harry that one. These, on the other hand…" I motioned to the scattered remains of the box; there were some highly inappropriate photos in there, buried. "Well, let's just say you might want to hide your blushing eyes, Moony. There are a few in here that I am sure would give Calli good reason to have my balls…"

"Not that she doesn't already," Remus finished. He fished through the pile, brought a picture to his face, and immediately blushed, burying it once more. "Ah. I see."

"And you will never tell her, Remus, old buddy, old pal…am I correct?"

Remus was muttering something about blackmail, picking up another picture and examining it as though very interested, tilting his head to the left.

"Hey! Lupin!"

He looked up innocently at me in response.

"Wanker. You don't get to see any more of these." I hastily shoved the lid on the box and pushed it under the large bed, finally starting to feel some of the dizzying bleariness that came with the wine we had pilfered.

"Oh, come on, Padfoot…" He was smiling like an idiot. Apparently the wine had hit us both simultaneously, and quite suddenly too.

_**Gryffindor Common Room  
Fall, 1976**_

The incident at James's party was largely ignored, and partly blamed on alcohol. There was, however, a definite avoidance between Sirius and Calli and, considering their relationships with James, this made group arrangements difficult (if not downright uncomfortable).

James was relieved once they returned to Hogwarts; he reckoned that, if nothing else, the presence of other students would alleviate the awkward tension within the formerly tight-knit group of friends. Alas…the constant chatter of fellow Gryffindors only served to accentuate the fissures that had formed since their summer holiday.

It was only a handful of days into their Fourth Year at Hogwarts, and James was talking to Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the co-captains of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The twins were shaking their rust-colored heads at the younger boy with identical, good-natured grins on their freckled faces. James had been made Chaser the year before, midway through the season, after the previous Chaser received a rather extensive injury that prevented his participation in the sport thereafter.

James looked disappointed for a moment before returning to where Calli sat with Remus, drawing on the corner of his essay with Sirius's quill. Sirius himself was across the table, rereading his finished essay unconcernedly. They all looked up as James threw himself into an armchair his arms crossed.  
"The season hasn't even started yet; what could you be asking about?" Remus asked mildly, turning back to his incomplete essay contemplatively.

"I was…inquiring as to the availability of an open Chaser position, since I happen to know of a fairly competent flyer who just received a new broomstick and would just love to show off her Quidditch skills in front of the entire school…"

Calli blanched slightly, blinking at her boyfriend. There was a silence, as James looked back at her, face impassive; his eyes, however, were twinkling in a way that seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, indeed.

"You…did what, exactly?" Calli finally asked, two spots of pink appearing on her cheeks. "You didn't actually happen to mention my name, did you?"

"Well, aren't we a little full of ourselves…I'm not sure I would even describe you as a competent flyer, my dear Callista," James joked, a grin finally cracking his face.

"Shut up," Calli laughed, hitting his knee with her palm just enough to make enough space for her to lean against the legs of both the chair, between the legs of her boyfriend.

"James, don't be such a slut," Sirius muttered, a lopsided smile on his face as he turned back to his essay, eyes clouded.

"So what do you think?" James asked, ignoring his best friend. He threaded his hands in Calli's long, very straight tresses carefully.

"Mm…" Calli reclined back into his hands, her eyes closing lazily. She bit her lip, smiling lethargically. "Yeah…when are tryouts?"

"Saturday," James replied, his lips brushing her exposed neck as he leaned forward.

Calli turned her head, planting a quick kiss on her boyfriend's lips before leaning forward again. "I'll be there. But right now, I had better finish this essay…I've barely started."

James looked momentarily disappointed before he stood, grabbing his bag. "I'm going to head out to the Pitch, then. See you later." He smiled, kissing her on the cheek, and began to head for the portrait hole, an odd expression coming over his face.

"Sirius," he called. The taller boy looked up at his best friend. James looked like he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it, and shook his head just a little bit. "Sirius, want to come?"

Sirius looked like he was thinking it over, before his gaze fell on Calli, who was now unrolling a piece of parchment. "No, thanks, James…I'll just see you later."

James paused, staring at his friend appraisingly before nodding, turning once more, and exiting through the portrait hole.

Calli, however, had not noticed the awkward exchange, and was instead fingering through her transfiguration book, looking for more information for her essay. She sighed, obviously not finding very much information.

Sirius silently rose from his seat, and made his way to sit beside Calli. She ignored him, but he could tell by the change in her breathing that she definitely knew he was there.

"What are you working on?" he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Calli raised her eyes and looked into the fireplace, set into the opposite wall. "Transfiguration essay."

Sirius hesitated, unsure what exactly he was doing, as she went back to flipping through the book stalwartly.

Sirius was not usually so unsure of a person. He tended to dive into something, whatever it was, unconditionally. And yet here he was, diving halfway into something unidentifiable. He told himself he was doing it for James…yes, he was doing it for James. Everything had been so awkward since the party at the Potter's mansion, and he just wanted to fix that. If he had to apologize to Calli, then so be it.

He took a deep breath, stifling his overwhelming pride, and, "Do you need any help?"

A strange expression overtook Calli's face as she finally looked up, into his face, for the first time in a long while. "What? No! No, no!"

"Was that a 'no', then?" Sirius joked, holding up his hands in surrender. "I get it, sorry, you don't need any help."

"It's not that I don't need any help, Sirius! I'm absolute rubbish at Transfiguration, everyone knows that. I just don't need help from you. If I need help, I'll ask James, Sirius. I'll ask my boyfriend," Calli hissed. She was closing her book and hastily grabbing her papers.

"Bloody…Merlin's balls, Calli," Sirius seethed, grabbing some of the books and pages for her, organizing them as best he could while becoming more furious with her by the second. "What the hell is your problem?"

"'My problem'?" Calli rounded on him, her cheeks flushing brightly. "How about your problems, Black? Let's talk about that, alright? Let's talk about spin the bottle, about a charmed bottle, that only points to whoever you want to kiss most. Let's talk about—"

Sirius shut her up the only way he could think of, at the moment. That is why, when James returned a few minutes later, he found his girlfriend and his best friend more or less snogging on the couch. He coughed into his hand politely; the smallest of smiles on his face as the two straightened immediately and, at least, had the decency to look severely apologetic.

"James—"

"James—"

Both Calli and Sirius began to try to explain, but James' smile grew as he held up two hands.

"You two really have to stop meeting like this…" he joked, glancing around at the scattered books and pieces of parchment around the Gryffindor Common Room floor.

Sirius opened his mouth once more to—to what? Apologize?—before he closed it hurriedly, bemused.

"If this is what has to go on for all of us to go back to normal, then I'm fine with it," James clarified. He still had that complacent smile on his face as he turned to Calli. "Maybe we should sort some stuff out? I have some confessions, too…" Calli nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears as they left the Common Room, not glancing back at Sirius as she went.

Sirius plopped down in the armchair where James had earlier been sitting, staring into the fire for a while before he leaned down to gather up all of Calli's strewn papers and textbooks, trying to organize them as best he could before he turned his attention to Calli's incomplete Transfiguration essay. He sighed, glancing at a nearby wall clock, and then began flipping through the textbook, to the familiar pages where he knew he would find all of the information she would need. He found a spare piece of parchment and ripped it into strips, labeling each one and sticking them in the textbook like bookmarks for the important information.

Eventually Calli and James returned to the Common Room, laughing, although it looked like Calli had been crying at some point while they were out. Sirius was not as surprised by the unexpected amount of concern he felt as he was by how extraordinarily protective he felt. He sat back in the armchair, trying to appear nonchalant.

James kissed Calli on the cheek as she wound her arms around his neck in a familiar embrace, but it was distinctly chaste. James raised his hazel eyes to Sirius's grey ones, and grinned widely.

"Good night," he bid them, addressing both as he ambled up the stairs. "I suppose you'll be up in a bit, Sirius?"

The Black heir nodded, looking back at his friend; his attention, however, was solely focused on Calli as she took a seat on the floor next to the armchair, examining the schoolwork he had started for her.

Once he was fairly sure James was out of sight and earshot, Sirius joined Calli on the carpet, watching her expression as she read the notes he had written. He waited for her to speak; he did not want to be the one who started this conversation, wherever it would lead.

At long last, she spoke, looking up from the notes, her blue eyes slightly bloodshot. The tip of her nose was a rose color, and there were pink splotches on each cheek. Her chapped lip looked like she had been chewing on them, and her hair was tangled down her back. He had never seen her looking worse.

And Sirius wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

But he figured he would wait until after she told him the situation…

"Thank you," she whispered. She had her hand on the bookmarked textbook, but he had a feeling it wasn't the only thing to which she was referring.

Sirius nodded, his face devoid of any expression. He waited, but it didn't look like she was going to offer up everything he wanted on a platter. He decided to start with the basics. "What did James say?"

Calli took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. She turned, and he had a feeling she had a lot to say. She did.

Calli summarized all that James had said about how he still harbored deep feelings for Lily, and how he felt like he was being unfair. She also explained how James had felt she and Sirius were being unfair, as well, both to each other, themselves, their friends, and to him. Their behavior had been disrupting their friendships, and, even though they very obviously liked one another (Calli was blushing hotly, by this point, and trying very hard to look quite interested in the books on the table), it was not worth it.

She stopped, and then elucidated how they had, obviously, decided that they were far better off as friends than they were as a couple.

Sirius broke eye contact at this point, looking back into the fire before asking the question that mattered most to him right then. The answer to such a question, he felt, would determine much more than any answer should have to. Asking such a question would be like laying everything he was worth, or not worth, on the table in front of this girl next to him, like her homework and books to be utterly judged and either accepted or…Well, the "or" was a terrible thought.

He took a deep breath, and then, "What about us—you and me…what are we going to do?"

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**Post A/N:** Review if you would like.

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